


darling let me trace the lines

by spinningincircles



Series: all was golden in the sky [2]
Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Tattoos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-07
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-13 01:09:28
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,319
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29893362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spinningincircles/pseuds/spinningincircles
Summary: If anyone had told Eddie a year ago that this is where he’d end up — happier than he’s ever been with the best man he’s ever met, business going better and better each day, Chris continuing to shine — he’s not sure he would have believed them. He would’ve kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for every good thing to be met with something even worse, for the inevitability of sinking back into the darkness that constantly followed him.(or: a love story tied together with ink)
Relationships: Christopher Diaz & Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV), Evan "Buck" Buckley/Eddie Diaz (9-1-1 TV)
Series: all was golden in the sky [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1898266
Comments: 28
Kudos: 183





	1. Birth Month Flowers

**Author's Note:**

  * For [elisela](https://archiveofourown.org/users/elisela/gifts).



> for my dearest darlingest eli -- the light of my life, the other half of my soul, the reason this damn series exists in the first place 😅😅 HAPPY BIRTHDAY I LOVE YOU SO SO SO VERY MUCH
> 
> title from "tattooed heart" by ariana grande

The bell above the shop door rings, but Eddie ignores it in favor of putting the finishing touches on the wedding arrangement he’s working on. There’s only one person who’d come in after closing anyway, and he’ll make his way to the back room soon enough.

He smiles as he feels strong arms wrap around his waist from behind and a chin come to rest on his shoulder. He puts the last of the peonies in place before turning around to greet Buck properly.

“Hi,” he says, arms coming around Buck in return. Buck’s smile gets bright and Eddie melts, like he always does. 

“Hi,” Buck whispers, leaning in to kiss Eddie softly, sweetly. “Happy anniversary.”

If anyone had told Eddie a year ago that this is where he’d end up — happier than he’s ever been with the best man he’s ever met, business going better and better each day, Chris continuing to shine — he’s not sure he would have believed them. He would’ve kept waiting for the other shoe to drop, for every good thing to be met with something even worse, for the inevitability of sinking back into the darkness that constantly followed him.

But now, he has Buck and Chris and the rest of their little makeshift family to pull him out and remind him that he gets to  _ keep _ these good things, that he  _ deserves _ them. He still has days where that’s hard to believe, where everything goes a little grey, but then he’ll hear Chris’ laugh ring through the shop or see Buck smile, and colors come seeping back in again.

He kisses Buck one more time before stepping back to get a proper look at him. The first word that comes to mind is  _ mouthwatering _ — dress pants cut just right, dark blue button down making his eyes even brighter. He looks like he just stepped out of a J. Crew catalogue, and it takes every ounce of willpower Eddie can muster to not drag him upstairs right now and forget about their dinner reservations. 

There’s one glaring problem though, and Eddie reaches forward to undo the buttons at Buck’s wrist to roll up the sleeves of his shirt. Buck tries to pull away, but Eddie’s grip is firm.

“Eddie, come on, this is a  _ nice _ place, they won’t even let me in the door if they see all my ink.”

“Well, it’s  _ my _ anniversary, and  _ I _ want to see it. If my very Catholic, ‘your body is a temple’ abuela can accept your tattoos, the maître d' at this restaurant can too.”

He gets both sleeves rolled up to Buck’s elbows and takes a minute to admire the ink underneath. They’re all more than familiar now, and he’s spent hours asking Buck about each one, like Chris did when they first met. He likes knowing these things about Buck, the little bits that are so obvious on his arms but have meanings that go much deeper. It’s a privilege, a blessing really, and it’s not something that he’ll ever take for granted.

Buck’s blushing by the time he’s done, and Eddie kisses his nose to get a laugh out of him.

“Okay, okay, go get dressed, we’re gonna be late,” Buck says, shoving Eddie towards the stairs. Eddie does as he’s told, quickly changing and fixing his hair, and he feels himself smile as Buck’s jaw drops when he comes back downstairs.

He  _ knows _ he looks good — both the lady at the store and Sophia on FaceTime said that maroon was  _ definitely _ his color — but it’s nice that the main person he’s trying to impress agrees too.

“You look— damn, babe, are you sure we have to go to dinner?” Buck asks, pulling Eddie closer by his belt loops and kissing him deep. 

Eddie lets him, just for a minute, before pulling away, ignoring Buck’s groan as he grabs his hand and pulls him out the door.

~~~~~~~~~~

Dinner goes by without incident (minus a brief makeout session in the bathroom between courses) and is overall perfect. Eddie is full of food and flushed from wine and swinging his and Buck’s clasped hands back and forth as they walk back to his apartment because he’s so  _ happy _ he doesn’t know what else to do. The smile Buck shoots his way only makes that happiness grow.

The nerves settle in a bit once they finally get upstairs. “So, I know we didn’t talk about gifts or anything,” he says, pulling Buck towards the couch to sit down. “But I had a vague idea, and Chris wanted to help, and one thing led to another so...I do have something for you.”

Buck looks almost relieved. “Good, because I kinda have something for you too.”

Eddie laughs and rolls his eyes — of  _ course _ they did this with no planning — before going to his bedroom to grab the gift.

“Close your eyes!” he yells before walking back in. He gently places the gift in Buck’s lap and sits back down beside him.

“Okay, open.”

Buck does and looks down, eyes widening as he does. He traces a finger reverently over the leather cover of the book in front of him, stopping as he gets to the edge of the picture laid in the middle — the two of them and Chris at the beach, matching sunglasses and big smiles. It was their first “family day” after they got together, and the first time Eddie knew, with complete certainty, that this was all he wanted — all he  _ needed _ — for the rest of his life.

“These are all from the past year,” he says as Buck starts flipping through, like that wasn’t obvious. But he’s nervous and Buck hasn’t said anything so he’s just...riffing. “Even Abuela had some that I didn’t know about. Chris added all the drawings, the ones you two have been working on, and he suggested the pressed flowers because I was teaching him how to press them anyway. It’s mostly jasmine because I know those are your favorite, and they mean ‘sweet love’ so it...fit.” Buck’s still quiet, slowly flipping through the pages. “I know it’s a little cheesy, but—”

“It’s perfect,” Buck says, voice rough. When he finally looks at Eddie, his eyes are shining. “I just can’t believe it’s only been a year and we’ve done  _ all this _ .”

“There’s blank pages too,” Eddie says, tapping the back of the book. “For when we need them.” Not  _ if _ we need them, because Eddie doesn’t feel presumptuous in thinking —  _ knowing _ — that they’ll need those blank pages, and probably a couple thousand more.

Buck smiles and reaches up, cupping Eddie’s cheek. “I love it. I love  _ you _ . Thank you.” He kisses him once, twice, three times before closing the book and setting it on the coffee table.

“My turn?” Eddie asks. Buck nods and stands up, smile gone and replaced with a nervous grimace. 

“So, first things first, I meant to talk to you about this before it happened,” Buck says. “But then I told Chim and Maddie about it, and they said it would be better as a surprise, and they’re  _ very  _ persuasive when they want to be, and she didn’t have a lot of time last week, so I—”

“Buck,” Eddie says, standing up too. “It’s okay. Whatever it is, I’m sure I’ll love it.”

Buck’s eyes flit back and forth between his for a minute before he nods and starts unbuttoning his shirt.

“Oh, it’s  _ that _ kind of present?”

Buck just laughs and rolls his eyes. He finishes unbuttoning and shrugs his shirt off, revealing his bare chest and more tattoos that Eddie’s become intimately familiar with over the past year. He’s traced each of them with his fingers and his tongue, knows their stories, could probably draw them from memory if someone asked him to.

Except one.

It’s healed but still fresh, stark on Buck’s skin compared to some of the older, faded ones. The design is simple but clear, and obviously Maddie’s work: a marigold and a daisy, crossed at the stems, tied together in a perfect bow by a piece of twine. And it’s right over Buck’s heart, in a spot Eddie knows has been reserved for something truly special.

“It’s beautiful,” Eddie says, “but how is it for me?”

“Come on, Eddie, you know what flowers mean better than anyone.”

“Sure, and I know marigolds are for pain and grief and daisies are for innocence. But what does that have to do with us? Unless you mean—” 

He loses his breath a little because it  _ clicks _ . Tears sting his eyes as he looks up at Buck, because he knows what he  _ thinks _ it means, what he  _ wants _ it to mean, but he wants to hear Buck say it too.

Buck smiles, soft and beautiful. “A marigold for an October birthday, like yours, and a daisy for an April birthday, like Chris’. The bow is actually a rose vine for a June birthday.”

“Like yours,” Eddie whispers. 

Buck nods, but he quickly looks nervous again. “I know it’s kind of a lot, and maybe it’s assuming too much, but you guys are it for me. Really,  _ really _ it. This is the best way I could show you that.”

Eddie reaches a hand up, traces gently over a petal, feels Buck’s heart thumping underneath it. Underneath  _ them _ . A symbol of their family, so solidly formed that Buck wanted it to be a permanent part of him, woven into the tapestry of the stories he paints on his skin.

Eddie’s at a loss for words — so many big things he wants to say, but they’re all getting tangled in his brain, mixed with the sheer awe that this is even happening. Buck must take it as a bad sign though, because his face falls a bit and he starts looking around the room at anywhere but Eddie.

“It’s okay if you don’t like it,” he says, trying to grab for his shirt on the floor. “Like I said, I should’ve told you first—”

Eddie grabs Buck’s face and pulls him into a searing kiss. He’s getting better with words, with communicating his thoughts and talking through what he’s feeling, but sometimes actions still serve him much better. He does his best to pour the tangle of love and devotion and thoughts of forever into the kiss, and if his enthusiastic response is any indication, Buck seems to pick up on everything just fine.

They come up for air eventually, but Eddie keeps holding on to Buck, his thumbs gently tracing the blush on his cheeks. He just looks, takes this moment in, floored by the fact that even when he thinks things can’t get better, that he’s used up all his good fortune and reached the peak of whatever happiness he’s been allowed, Buck comes in and blows the roof clean off.

“You’re it for us too,” he says softly, earnestly. Buck’s smile is big and bright, and Eddie falls in love all over again.


	2. Matching Rings

“You know you’re gonna have to get this redone, like, every year, right?”

Buck shoves Chim’s shoulder, almost knocking the ink out of his hands in the process. “You said you’d give us anything we wanted as a wedding present. _And_ you’re only doing mine, so it’s like half a present. Be grateful we didn’t ask for money, too.”

Chim holds his hands up placatingly and finishes loading his machine. It’s just the three of them on the floor, Maddie in the back office doing something with accounting. The sun is going down, lighting the whole room up with soft, golden light. It hits Buck just right too where he’s laid back in Chimney’s chair, making his skin glow in all the places it peaks out beneath the ink. His hair is soft and loose and his smile is easy, and Eddie feels his heart pick up, like it’s the first time he’s ever seen it.

Eddie can’t believe he has to wait a week to marry this man. He’d do it right here, right now if he could. But it’s only seven days, and today they’re doing something just as permanent, just as lasting as they are.

This wasn’t part of the original plan. Everything else was set for the wedding — the venue, the food, the cake, the suits, _everything_ , except the rings. They’d spent three separate weekends going to stores all around Los Angeles, scouring Etsy shops, talking to designers, and still nothing felt right. Nothing they saw felt true to either of them, as a couple or as individuals, and it was (on top of the general stress of planning a wedding) starting to get to Eddie.

“Screw it,” he’d said after another two hours of searching, closing out of another store’s website. “This is so stupid. The rings are the least important part of this, why is it so hard to find good ones?”

Buck pats his shoulder and sets down a mug of tea in front of him before sitting down next to him. “We could just get cheap ones for the actual wedding and keep looking after. Or skip the rings altogether?”

“No, I still want them,” Eddie said. “I just want them to be special. To be _us_ . We’re going to be wearing them for the rest of our lives, we should _like_ them.”

Buck nodded, tapping the side of his own mug, lost in thought. Eddie tried to search some more, typing every combination of “male wedding ring not ugly” in Google and hoping something stuck, until Buck suddenly grabbed his wrist, his eyes bright.

“What if we do tattoos instead.”

“Ring tattoos? Is that even a thing?” He liked to think he’d absorbed a fair amount of tattoo knowledge in all his years of knowing Buck, but he can’t remember a time anyone ever came into the shop for something like that.

Buck nodded. “They’re more popular than they used to be. And we could design them ourselves. They’ll need touch ups, but what’s more permanent than ink being shoved into a layer of your skin?”

He was right. Tattoos meant a lot to the both of them — what better way to truly bond them for life? Eddie smiled back, kissing Buck’s cheek. “You’re a genius.”

So now, three weeks later, design finalized and on their only free evening for the next seven days, Chim starts up his machine and starts on Buck’s left hand.

It’s a simple design — black, interwoven strands, tied together by each other’s initials on the palm side. To Eddie, the strands look like a ribbon of DNA, which makes perfect sense for how much Buck is a part of him, heart and soul and everywhere else in between. He’s intrinsic to Eddie’s very being at this point, and now everyone else will get to see it too, will know from just a glance that he is happily, permanently, taken.

He feels Buck snake his free hand into his own, interlocking their fingers and squeezing gently. He looks up, worried, but Buck seems fine, easy smile still on his face, brighter still now that it’s night.

“You okay?”

Buck nods. “Doesn’t hurt. Just like holding your hand.”

Eddie smiles and rolls his eyes, but squeezes his hand back just as gently.

Chim takes his time, meticulous as always, but he’s still done fairly quickly. He wraps Buck’s finger and cleans up his station before heading to the back to find Maddie, yelling “Congrats you two, don’t touch any of my stuff” over his shoulder as he goes. Buck just rolls his eyes before standing — his hand still clasped in Eddie’s — and leading them over to his own station. Eddie gets comfortable in the chair while Buck gets everything ready, and while he tries to take in the shop around him, noting the new artwork and paint job that Maddie just finished last weekend, his eyes always drift back to Buck, hands moving sure and quick as he cleans and fills his machine. Buck finishes up and catches him (though he wasn’t really trying to hide), smiling softly as he sits down in front of Eddie and takes his hand. The machine buzzes to life, and Eddie lets out a hiss as it touches his finger.

“Remember the last time you were here?” Buck asks, eyes trained on his work.

Of course Eddie does — he couldn’t stop staring at Buck that time either, no matter how hard he tried. He also remembers being scared, not of the tattoo, but of his growing feelings for Buck, how they were getting harder and harder to ignore but he still hadn’t felt like he _deserved_ Buck or the pure light and joy he’s made up of. 

Some days he still doesn’t, even after three years together and a week away from getting married. 

But then Buck will come into the shop and launch into a story about a _terrible_ client he just had, or come through the back door and plop down next to Chris to help with homework or an art project, or just _look_ at Eddie with his steady, sure gaze, press a kiss to his cheek, and tell him he loves him like it’s the only thing he knows for certain. And Eddie will remember how well Buck fits into their lives, how easy it is to love him and be loved _by_ him, and those doubts wash away as quickly as they came.

Buck shows him more love every day than any person should be capable of showing. Eddie can’t wait to spend the rest of his life giving it right back.

“Done!” Buck says. Eddie looks down at his hand and feels a beautiful warmth spread through him that threatens to bubble over in a laugh or tears or maybe both. Buck’s smiling too as he wraps Eddie’s finger and places a gentle kiss to the knuckle right below the ink, the promises of forever they’ve made to each other now permanent on them for the whole world to see

“So, a touch up every year huh?” Eddie asks as they leave the shop and head back to the apartment. Buck throws an arm around Eddie’s shoulder, pulling him closer as the cool night breeze whirls around them.

“Think of it like a permanently scheduled vow renewal,” Buck says, and Eddie _does_ , his mind suddenly fast forwarding to see them 10, 20, 30 years down the line, renewing their commitment to each other year after year within the now sacred walls of Armageddon, older and greyer but still just in love as they are right now, if not more. It makes Eddie feel that warmth all over again, coursing through him until a laugh _does_ bubble out of him as he presses a kiss under Buck’s jaw. He stops them walking and pulls Buck closer, kissing him for real — slowly, _thoroughly_ , tangling their hands together and gently tracing over Buck’s ring finger, excited beyond words for the start of the rest of their lives together.


	3. Ursa Major and Minor

Chris is being weird.

Which isn’t actually unusual — he’s almost 18, and teenagers are  _ always _ a little weird about certain things. Eddie’s still not allowed to look in the bottom drawer of Chris’ nightstand, and at this point, he probably doesn’t want to.

But still. He’s being weird. And for that matter, so is Buck.

He can tell they’re hiding something — it feels like every time he comes into the back room, they’re huddled over the table, whispering about something. He tried to look over Chris’ shoulder once to see what he was scribbling in a notebook, but Buck had yanked it away and sat on it before Eddie could get too close. Whenever he tries to ask what’s going on, they just smile at him, the picture of innocence, and start talking about schoolwork or graduation or anything else until Eddie finally moves on.

And he loves it, really, that Chris and Buck have their own little thing at the moment, something that’s just for them. But he’d also  _ really _ like to know what the hell is going on.

He’s sitting at the kitchen table, answering emails about orders after dinner, when Buck and Chris walk in. Buck has that mischievous, self-satisfied glint in his eye that always raises Eddie’s blood pressure a few points, but Chris looks  _ nervous _ . He’s fidgeting with the notebook in his hands and has the same wide-eyed look he had when he opened every one of his college acceptance letters. 

Eddie shuts his laptop and pushes it to the side. “Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine. Chris just has a question for you.” Buck nudges him gently with his elbow before sitting down at the table. Chris follows suit, taking the seat across for Eddie, looking nervous still but more determined. He takes a deep breath and finally looks Eddie in the eye.

“So,” he starts. “Tomorrow’s my birthday.”

Eddie nods. “Same day every year.”

Buck snorts and Chris rolls his eyes. “ _ Yeah _ , Dad. And I know we already have plans, but I wanted to add one more thing for us to do.”

“Sure, buddy. What did you have in mind?”

Chris takes another deep breath and answers quickly on the exhale so it comes out like  _ Iwannageddatattoo _ . Eddie tilts his head and leans forward. “Come again?”

Another breath. “I want to get a tattoo. Tomorrow. For my birthday.” He flips through the notebook in front of him, landing on a page and sliding it towards Eddie. There’s things scratched out all over the page but the final design is clearly circled — the Big and Little Dippers, each point made of small, hand-drawn asterisks and connected by even lines of dots. It’s clean, simple, and Eddie thinks it looks beautiful (though mostly because Chris put a lot of effort into putting it together).

“They look great, Chris,” he says, “and you technically won’t need my permission to get it tomorrow, but I’m sure I can sway  _ someone _ at Armageddon to get you an appointment.” 

Buck smiles and nods. “Already on the schedule. But there’s something  _ else _ Chris wanted to ask.” He looks pointedly at Chris, who rolls his eyes again and nods.

“So I want to get this one,” he says, reaching across the table and pointing at the Little Dipper. “And I thought, if you want— you don’t  _ have _ to, but—” he moves his hand to the Big Dipper. “I was wondering if  _ you _ would get this one with me?”

Eddie could cry. He very well might with how fast he feels his eyes welling up. He and Chris have always been close — something he’s been thankful for every day of his son’s teenage years — but  _ this _ is something else entirely. He got his first tattoo out of spite towards his parents, and now Chris wants to get one  _ with _ him?

He’s quiet for too long, because Chris looks even more nervous. He clears his throat and reaches across the table to take Chris’ hand in his. “I’d  _ love _ to. If you’re sure. This is a pretty permanent decision.”

Chris smiles. “They’re  _ our _ stars. I want us to get them together.”

Now Eddie’s definitely going to cry. He remembers summer nights in El Paso after Shannon had left — when neither of them could sleep, so they snuggled in the hammock in their backyard instead and stared up at the stars. He didn’t know many constellations, but there were two that he could always find.

“They look like spoons,” Chris had said once, still small enough to fit snuggly to Eddie’s side. 

“They do,” Eddie said. “But they’re not just spoons, they’re part of bigger pictures — Ursa Major and Minor, Big Bear and Little Bear.”

“Like a dad and a baby?” Chris asked. Eddie’s heart clenched — because he’d burrowed impossibly closer when he asked that, because he hadn’t asked about a mom, because he loves this kid so much he’d grab every star in the sky for him if he wanted them — and he ran his fingers through soft curls, trying to stay in the moment for as long as he can.

“That’s right,” he said, voice rougher than he wanted. “They’re always together, always protecting each other. Just like you and me.”

“Forever?” Chris asked as he placed his hand in Eddie’s.

Eddie swallowed, pressing a kiss to the top of Chris’ head and clasping their hands together. “Forever and ever.”

He meant it — he  _ still _ means it — but the fact that Chris kept that promise with him too all these years, turned it into something precious, something worth immortalizing, it makes Eddie wish he could go back in time and tell his younger self that everything would be fine. That whatever doubts he had swirling in his head while laying in that hammock were for nothing — that he  _ was _ and  _ is _ a good father, who raised the best kid in the world to be full of joy and happiness and love, just like he promised himself he would the minute Chris was born.

He laughs as he feels tears fall for real, and Chris laughs wetly too, coming over to him and hugging him tight around the neck. Eddie holds on just as hard, reaching down to grasp Buck’s hand too when he feels him squeeze his knee.

He hopes those lucky stars are listening when he sends up a thank you for giving him this family.

“I love you, Dad,” Chris says.

Eddie untangles them enough to take Chris’ face in his hands, get a good look at his son — his beautiful, perfect boy, who’s becoming a better man than Eddie could’ve ever hoped for.

“I love you too, kid. Forever and ever.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Chris goes first the next day, brave face on until Buck starts up the machine and brings it to the inside of his bicep.

He grabs Eddie’s hand and squeezes hard. Eddie doesn’t let it go.

**Author's Note:**

> come talk tattoos or flowers or literally anything else on [tumblr](https://tylerhunklin.tumblr.com/) with me!


End file.
